A Few Thoughts
by Malvolia
Summary: Point of view vignettes from some third season episodes. Spoilers.
1. Traveling Salesmen

She imagines it happening differently. She finds out he's leaving, for real, and she jumps up, and runs to him, and kisses him, and throws her arms around him and holds onto him, hard, and when she sees everybody staring in shock she shouts, "There's nothing wrong with it!" and when he looks at her in surprise she says, "It was my fault. Don't go. It's my turn to protect you."

Her pride is safe. Her self-image is safe.

But his desk is empty.

* * *

He is so glad she's here. Really. She is beautiful, and she has more than just an appearance of intelligence, and she's totally into him. She followed him all the way from Connecticut—heck, she _moved_ all the way from Connecticut for him. She wasn't sure how he felt, and she took a chance anyway, and he admires her for that. He likes her. A lot.

Then why was the first answer he gave her a lie?

* * *

Looking back, he thinks that the reason he asked to take the lead was only partially connected to his desire for more experience and for a critique from someone who'd been in the field longer. Truth was, he never thought Stanley was much of a salesman. He didn't show much interest in his job. He seemed…well, kind of boring. Maybe sales would be boosted by a little fresh energy.

He will never live this down.

* * *

She's used to the severe buns and the even more severe set of the mouth, the unflappable control, the harsh condemning rigidity. This smiling blond is an entirely different person. She could be friends with her. And she feels the need for friends, especially now that her lunches are almost as lonely as her dinners. She thinks about Dwight's exaggerated chivalry the night of the luau and about how people sometimes turned out to be different than what you thought they were.

She wishes Angela could be like this all the time.

* * *

The flattery is starting to wear a little thin. He already knows he's the best boss ever. It's not like he needs his ego stroked constantly. Does Andy think he's an infant? And the man is clueless on sales calls, and has all the subtlety awareness of…a mallet. Not like the entourage, the guys he can always count on. True, there was that one time. But it was just one time. He'd almost forgotten why Dwight was doing his laundry until Andy asked about it.

He doesn't miss the squabbling over who was number three. But if he hears one more compliment this afternoon, he'll be almost positive he made the wrong choice.

He taps a bobblehead and sighs.


	2. The Return

He knew he could do the job well. He does everything he sets his mind to well. (That's what she said.) But there, customers didn't come back looking specifically for him. The boss didn't wander over to swap jokes when he felt bored. There were no challenges for his salesmanship or his wits, no hidden pitfalls to be avoided. No one respected his years of experience. And he couldn't see her every day, exchange clandestine glances, "accidentally" brush past her too closely and smell the slight lavender scent of her shampoo. There, he had nothing to fear and nothing to hide.

He hated it.

When he heard she told Michael, he thought she told him everything. But somehow, she managed to tell him without telling him. Somehow, their secret is still safe. They continue to be undercover agents in the affairs of the heart.

He wonders how it is that no one can tell, while she is shaking hands with him, that the world is spinning around them.

* * *

He lied to her. Flat out lied. Like it wasn't bad enough he encouraged her to take the job here, like it wasn't bad enough he had made her think that maybe he really _was_ into her, he had lied about the other woman.

The other woman never seemed to be trying to win him over. She even straightened him out when he was being stupid about Karen moving into a place two blocks down from him. (She can't believe she didn't see it then, but she didn't.) She can't blame Pam. But she can't look at her, either.

She stares into her open desk drawer and feels her jaw tighten.

* * *

He's holding a cold beverage can because his hand still hurts, not because he's thirsty. He can't help it that he got sick of people making fun of him, of them stealing his things and putting them in Jell-O molds or claiming to have hid them in the ceiling. He can't help it that nobody here appreciates his skill, his genius.

He does not want to give Dwight his desk back, but if these freaks won't lay off, he might not have another choice.

Augustus Gloop probably went on to be a very successful businessman in another field.

* * *

She's glad she can be friends with him even though he's dating someone else. She remembers what it was like to kiss him, and she wouldn't mind a refresher, but what she really loves is being in on the joke.

She will never again hear Rockin' Robin without smiling.

* * *

She watches him decimate piñata after piñata, out of control, and she wants to grab another broom and run after him, challenge him to one of the lightsaber duels he gets into with his cousin Mose, and not care if she knocks things off desks. She wants to let her hair down and spin around until she gets dizzy. She wants to climb up on his desk with him and kiss him right there in front of everybody.

For now, she settles for not listening to the voice that tells her to stop smiling.

* * *

He stands by her side and it feels so right, just like it always did, except this time there's no ring on her finger, and this time when she smiles at him there's something different in her eyes, like she's grateful just to have him near her, and he wants to put his arm around her and pull her close and make everything perfect. But he also wants to run away, and he thinks he knows what she felt like last spring.

Can anything that feels so perfect last?


End file.
